


Wizardville

by to_kill_a_mockingbird



Category: Blindspot (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:28:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24149731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/to_kill_a_mockingbird/pseuds/to_kill_a_mockingbird
Summary: “Point is, I think you should get that little booty out of bed and hustle down here before your girlfriend really gets pissed and does something like, I don’t know, shoot me in frustration.”Patterson groaned. “It’s four in the morning, Rich. And besides, Tasha would never- wait, actually, never mind, she totally would shoot you, and I would totally support it.”Rich hacks into Wizardville to get Patterson to come down to the office and check on Tasha. Set before S4 finale, when they're still trying to catch Madeleine.
Relationships: Patterson & Tasha Zapata, Patterson/Tasha Zapata
Comments: 12
Kudos: 71





	Wizardville

_Ping_.

Jerking awake, Patterson fumbled for the phone on her bedside table, groaning at the missed call notification and the text message flashing on the screen.

_Urgent- call me back ASAP._ Angie, one of the top coders for Patterson’s chart-topping app, Wizardville, and one of the select few whose messages could bypass Patterson’s _Do Not Disturb_ setting at night.

Patterson sighed, dialing Angie. The programmer picked up after the first ring.

“Patterson, hey. We have a problem.”

Patterson stifled a yawn. “And it couldn’t wait until _not_ 4am Eastern time?”

“No, I’m serious. It’s bad. Like, _bad_ bad.” Angie hesitated. “Like, I think the government’s trying to hack us kind of bad.”

Patterson’s eyes widened, lethargy gone. “Lemme get my laptop. Are you sure about this?”

“Dead sure. I’m blocking them as we speak, but the attacker’s origin signal is coming straight from the FBI’s HQ. Either we’ve got a really stupid government agent, or someone who’s smart enough to hack the FBI’s system and then use _that_ to hack our app.”

Patterson stopped typing. “FBI headquarters?”

“Yeah, D.C. Why?”

“Keep blocking him, Angie. I’ll call you right back.” Patterson ended the call, then pulled up another contact. The call rang once, twice, and then a third time before-

“What’s up, Patty-cakes?”

Patterson growled. “Don’t. Call me that. Why are you trying to hack my app, Rich?”

“Oh. That. I needed to talk to you.”

“And you couldn’t’ve just texted? Or called?”

“You keep your phone on _Do Not Disturb_ at night. What was I supposed to do?”

“I dunno, Rich. Bang on my door, like a normal person?”

Rich Dotcom sighed. “You’ve technically never told me where you live. It could be seen as rude to barge over uninvited.”

Patterson rolled her eyes. “And yet it’s not rude to give my head programmer a heart attack in the middle of the night? Speaking of which...”

“Oh, yeah, one sec.” A cascade of clacking echoed through the phone, and moments later, an _All clear_ message buzzed in from Angie.

Patterson lay back on her pillow. “So what’s so important you had to hack into my multimillion-dollar company to tell me?”

“Technically, I had to hack into another FBI office before hacking into your company, so-”

“Rich.”

“Right, semantics. I’m a genius, doesn’t matter. I’m calling about your girlfriend.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know, what’s-her-name. The brunette. She’s been here all night, doing... well, I’m not sure what, exactly. I tried to see if she needed help and she almost took my eye out with a pen.” Rich shuddered. “You know, Jane scares me in an exciting way, like a cheetah or lion. Majestic. This one scares me like a raccoon in a New York City dumpster. Small, fast, angry, and likely rabid. Would chow down on your decomposing corpse. Terrifying.”

Patterson rolled her eyes. “Feel free to get to the point when you’re finished insulting my best friend.”  
  
“Insult?” Rich sounded surprised. “You misunderstand. That description was contrived of pure respect and fear.”

“Point, Rich.”

“Point is, I think you should get that little booty out of bed and hustle down here before your girlfriend _really_ gets pissed and does something like, I don’t know, shoot me in frustration.”

Patterson groaned. “It’s four in the fucking morning, Rich. And besides, Tasha would never- wait, never mind, she totally would shoot you, and I would totally support it.”

“See, point proven.” A muffled static echoed over the line, almost as if Rich had shoved the phone in his pocket, then: “Hurry. Please.” The line went dead.

The display on her phone read _3:57am_ . Though hugely tempted to turn the phone over and get another four hours of sleep, Patterson forced herself to sit up and rolled out of bed. _Tasha_ , she reminded herself. _You’re doing this for Tasha._ And if Rich had exaggerated the situation even a little bit, Jane Doe herself wouldn’t be able to save the hacker from Patterson’s wrath.

  
  


As she stepped out of the elevator, Patterson could see the tension in Tasha’s shoulders from across the room. The petite agent was slumped over a stack of files, pen hammering on the desk so hard that Patterson was surprised a hole hadn’t eroded through the plywood.

“Tasha?” she asked cautiously. 

The pen came flying in projectile motion at her face. Patterson barely ducked out of the way in time, rising to see a sheepish Tasha looking at her.

“Sorry. Jumpy.”

Patterson raised an eyebrow. “Mmhm.” 

Tasha sighed, resting her forehead in her palm. “It’s all here, Patterson. There’s something here, something that ties it all together, and I’m just missing it.”

“Tasha. Hey.” Patterson curled her fingers around the brunette’s other hand. “Everyone’s working around the clock to find Madeleine Burke. But you’re human too. You’ve gotta rest.” She rolled her eyes at Tasha’s expression. “Well, maybe you CIA guys are different, but us lowly FBI folks need the seven hours of sleep at night. Give or take.”

A slow smirk pulled up one side of Tasha’s mouth. “Says the one who spent a week hacking the logs to make it look like she’d signed out and gone home when she was in the lab all night, trying to decode tattoo clues.”

“Okay, yeah, yeah, do as I say, not as I do.” But Patterson was smiling too, at the grin that spread across Tasha’s face for the first time in what seemed like years. “Guilty as charged.”

Tasha looked down at the files, then inhaled deeply. “You’re right, though. I should get some sleep.”

Patterson cocked an eyebrow. “I’m right? When am I _not_ right?” 

Tasha rolled her eyes and threw a pencil at her. “Shut up, Miss Know-It-All.”

“Wow, first a pen and now a pencil? Is there a reason I’m being assaulted by stationary this early in the morning?”

Tasha shrugged. “It wasn’t me who chose to come in for a pre-dawn meeting with Rich.” She fixed Patterson with a look.

“Uhhh, right. That. Um, well-”

“It’s fine, Patterson,” Tasha said with a little smile. “I know he called you.”

Patterson deflated a little. “I mean, he’s just worried about you. In, you know, a Rich Dotcom kind of way.”

“I know.”

“But seriously, can I drive you to your apartment, or something? Just somewhere you can catch a few hours of sleep before the rest of the team gets in.”

Tasha stiffened the slightest bit. “Oh no, don’t worry about it. I can catch a nap in the break room or something. Don’t want to have to make you drive all the way back again.”

Patterson’s eyes narrowed. “You hate the break room.”

“Or the sparring room, or even a holding cell downstairs. Jane says they’re pretty comfortable. Don’t worry about me, Patterson. I’ll be fine.”

_Why wouldn’t she-_ and then the realization hit her. “Oh.”

“What?”

“You don’t have an apartment anymore, do you?” Patterson asked softly. “The CIA seized your assets when you went rogue.”

Tasha bit her lip. “I mean, I’ll get them back when Keaton wakes up and sends in the paperwork, but-”

“But for now, you don’t have anywhere to go. God, I’m so dumb. How did I not realize?”

Tasha chuckled mirthlessly. “Well, if it’s any comfort, you’re the first to figure it out.”

“Reade?”

“Reade only sees what he wants to see. And right now, when he looks at me, he’s too betrayed to see anything past his own hurt and anger.” Tasha’s lips pulled into that empty smile again. “I can’t blame him for that.”

“Yeah, but Tasha...”

“What?”

“That’s just... sad. What kind of friends are we?”

Tasha looked away. “It’s not your fault,” she said. “It’s mine. It’s all on me, Patty. Don’t blame yourself.”

“Yeah, but-”

“No. This one’s on me.” She glanced back at Patterson, and when the blonde didn’t respond, Tasha sighed and dropped her face to her hands. “It’s just-”

“Yeah?”

They sat in silence for a moment as Tasha contemplated what to say next. Her body trembled with every heartbeat. Patterson’s hand cautiously touched her back, and when it didn’t meet any resistance, started rubbing gentle loops around her shoulders. As her muscles relaxed, Tasha took a deep breath and began talking.

“I’ve never been good at this kinda thing,” she admitted quietly. “The whole _trust_ thing. My whole life, you know, I’ve been alone. And I’m _good_ at alone. My dad fucked off when I was five, my mom wouldn’t give up the bottle, and it was just me and my brothers. My _abuela_ would help out when she could, but-” She broke off, shaking her head. “I don’t pity myself. I don’t. I am who I am because of my past, and I’m stronger for it. Things always worked out better when I figured it out on my own. Or, at least, they used to.”

“And now?” Patterson probed.

“And now I feel like I don’t know anything anymore.” Tasha pushed back in her chair, the tight smile back on her face. “I’m sorry, Patterson. It’s not your job to deal with this, not after everything I’ve done to you."

Patterson’s eyes narrowed, and she gripped Tasha’s wrist. “Hey. No, look at me. Look at me.”

Tasha reluctantly looked up.

“You are my _friend_ , do you hear me, Tasha? My friend. Honestly, you’re probably the best friend I’ve got, despite everything that’s happened between us. And if I hear one more goddamned word about how you think you’re a burden, or how you’re better off on your own, I will drag your butt to the sparring room and give you the ass kicking you think you deserve. You hear me, Tasha Zapata?”

Tasha’s mouth opened wordlessly before closing again, and she suddenly became very interested in the clock across the room. When she spoke again her voice was oddly low and muted. “You’re right, Patty. I’m sorry.”  
  
Patterson smiled, blinking hard against the stinging in her eyes. “Hey, you’re not gonna go and start crying on me, are you? Cuz then I’m gonna start crying, and we’re gonna start a whole mess up here sobbing while Rich hides awkwardly behind his computer.”

Tasha choked out a laugh. “Not anymore, Patterson.” But the hint of the grin on her face showed the first sense of real emotion Patterson had seen since the brunette got back. “We good?”

Both of them knew the real answer. Actions had consequences, and Patterson didn’t know if she’d ever truly be able to forgive Tasha for the things she’d done undercover, and even before that when she’d been in the CIA. But none of that changed the warmth Patterson felt beating in her heart when she looked at the brunette, the love and compassion she had for the woman who had been through so much in such a short time, the woman she still considered to be her best friend. Sure, true forgiveness would take time. But this was a step in the right direction.

So, in response, Patterson smiled as she angled her head towards the elevator. “We still have, oh, probably thirty minutes before the rest of the team gets here. Wanna get some coffee to start the day?”

“I’d- I’d like that very much,” Tasha said, stacking the files spread out across the desk. As Patterson stood, Tasha reached out and touched her arm. “Patterson... thank you.”

Ignoring the butterflies in her stomach at the touch, Patterson shook her head. “Don’t worry about it.”

And if she purposefully took a wrong turn when she noticed Tasha snoring lightly in the passenger seat, well, she’d blame it on the GPS. When a crash on the bridge turned the 20-minute drive into a 2-hour standstill, she took the opportunity to glance at her sleeping friend as she plugged in a podcast to play quietly over the sounds of New York traffic. The butterflies swarmed again, and Patterson bit her lip.

She was definitely, absolutely, positively not falling for Tasha Zapata.

**Author's Note:**

> Getting back into writing after taking a break to focus on my studies for a bit... God, I've missed it. Definitely a bit rusty, but I'm trying to write a little bit every day :) 
> 
> I've been working on this fic in bits and pieces for months, completely uninspired to finish it, but the S5 premiere and the Tasha-centric plot line gave me that little push I needed to finish this bit up nicely. Dunno what (if?) the next chapter's gonna be, but ideas are always appreciated!


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